Things Unforgotten
by TenshiNoAkuma
Summary: -discontinued- Knight x Alchemist. A guardian remembers his previous ward and ponders his situation with his current one. When a knight leaves Prontera in a fit of rage, she draws another into her little world.
1. Prologue

Author's Notes: Okay, this fic was completely unintentional. I was only doing the background of NightEyes, and then bam! this thing happened. I'm hoping I can keep this short-ish, but…well…anyways, hope you enjoy!

Edited because the old prologue was short and jumped all over the place. It still does, but at least it's better now.

Disclaimer: I do not own Ragnarok Online. I only own the characters, who only exist theoretically.

--

Ragnarok Online

Things Unforgotten

Prologue

--

Some things are

Best left unsaid.

Some things are

Best left alone.

Some things are

Best taken to the grave.

--

Today is just another day, another long, boring, and most of all, hot, day. Morroc is such a terribly hot place during the day, and far too cold during the night. Day is the time of rest and relaxation. Well, at least, as much relaxation as you can get when you know at any moment, someone could try to kill you. It's not our fault that the assassins are so touchy. Funny how they try to kill you for stealing their stuff.

Perhaps I wasn't the best for this job. Looking after the boy isn't a particularly onerous task, but do I really take care of him? How many times have we had to fight for our lives? He may flash that winning smile at me and assure me that Lady Luck is watching over us, but I am uneasy. How long will it be before things get out of hand? How long will it be when the Assassin Guild deems us to be a larger threat, and stop sending new recruits to kill us and send the professionals instead? I'm worried, but my ward is not concerned at all. He believes Lady Luck is connected to him through the Hatii fang he wears around his neck. Children…they believe almost anything…

The boy has no idea what that Hatii fang has cost me. The life of someone I cared about was taken for me, in exchange of this never melting chunk of ice. I still feel that was a rather poor trade-off. A life for a thing that was only a small comfort during the really, really hot days. Watching her die, too weak and foolish to prevent it from happening, was the worst moment of my life.

…Does he need to know? He's so carefree and reckless, just like her. He is like a kindred spirit to me, just like she was. I remember my days with her. Sometimes they were predictable, other times, they were full of spontaneity. So many years have passed since then, yet time seems to pass quicker every day. Every time I turn, he seems to have grown a little taller. Soon he'll be the same height as her, if not taller.

I wonder what I will do if…what am I talking about? _when_ the boy dies? Spend the rest of my time looking after my kin? That sounds like a very boring way to spend the rest of my years. I could never stand peacefulness for extended periods of time. There is simply too much effort and too little reward in babysitting.

…He doesn't count. He…amuses me, to say the least.

No, he doesn't need to know about what conspired in the snowfields. At least, not yet. He doesn't need to know the reason why his skin burns so easily under the Morrocan sun when everyone else tans. I don't think he'll understand if I told him now anyway. It's not that he's not smart, because he _is_ clever in his own distinctive way. But for some things, he can be incredibly stupid. Maybe it's because I haven't educated him properly. Another of the things I failed to plan for. Oh well. Too late now.

Even if I never get around to telling him what happened, at least _I'll_ remember what happened, and I think that's more than enough. Although, a few years is just a mere grain of sand in the hourglass of time. Well, the memory will rest with me until Death comes to me with his oversized harvesting tool…

…Maybe I could steal his scythe when he comes to reap my soul…

--

Author's Notes: Oh, and why are rogues portrayed as bad guys? (cries) I mean, you get some bad assassins, and you get some good assassins, but why are all the rogues in the RO fandom BAD? (cries) Well, I'll be rectifying that soon…hehe.


	2. First Meetings

Author's Notes: Yes, yes, this story has a lot more swearing in it than what I usually do. It's only to keep Lori and Kei in character. (nods to RBO music) Um..okay, what's with Fanfiction's new uploading/editing system? Man, I leave for a few months…Ah! So confused! (swirly eyes) My goodness, I didn't realise that as default, M rated stories doesn't show up in the category. Geez, it used to only be R (which got taken out), then MA15+ (which also got taken out). And to be honest, this fic is definitely not my usual T rating. Damn. And I rolled over my foot with my wheelie chair. Take note, I usually don't update this fast. XD

Disclaimer: Don't own Ragnarok, but I have a 17atk Knife! Oh wait…the poring took it. Oh noes! Ah, wait, you can have a large jellopy! (smiles happily) Although some people don't believe it exists…

Reviewer Responses

dark drow – lol, thanks. I'll try to update when I can, but there are lots of distractions in the world. Hey, look! A butterfly! (chases)

Skye Mihalak – Hehe, thanks! I'm gonna see how many people I can mislead with the prologue. (evil grin)

--

Ragnarok Online – Things Unforgotten

Chapter 1 – First Meetings

--

An argument,

Two opposing sides.

Only two outcomes.

Something gives,

Or something breaks.

--

Lorianne Sharielerin was _not _happy, meaning woe to anyone within five feet of her. The female knight was notorious for her quick temper and baiting people into fights. It was only logical that the Chivalry would eventually kick her out, no matter how good she was at fighting. Not that Lorianne would admit they kicked her out; she declared that she was leaving the Chivalry because 'it was full of boring sops and pompous old bastards who didn't know freedom if it kicked them in their teeth.'

The short haired, brunette knight spat in disgust as she left the gates of Prontera behind. A poring slowly bounced along behind her, somewhat concerned with her anger. Most people would have made fun of a knight having a poring as a pet, but they had learnt long ago that making fun of Lorianne's poring was the quickest way to earn themselves a black eye and a broken rib. And to rub salt in their wounds, they'd receive a mocking grin from the poring on top of all that.

"Tch!" she scowled, cracking her knuckles. "I don't need them! Those goody-two-shoes can go fuck themselves." Seeing a tree, she punched it with her studded gauntlets as she walked past. The pain in her hand helped to ease the anger that she was feeling, but not much.

Shuffling uncomfortably at the more vehement-than-usual anger, the poring looked up at his master worriedly. Seeing the expression on the blob-like creature's face, the knight felt her rage slowly ebb away. "Sorry, Poing," she apologised, attempting to soften the harshness in her voice. "It's not your fault they can't see beyond their abnormally long noses."

The poring still looked uneasy, but seemed to be satisfied with her words, happily bouncing off to chase the caterpillar-like fabres. Lorianne continued walking, although she kept an eye on her poring, which gleefully attacked the scared creatures as they tried to crawl away. Now that she was no longer part of the Chivalry, Lorianne supposed she now had more time to take these kinds of walks with Poing. Hell, while she was at it, she might as well take an extended walk and go adventuring for a while. That sounded like a good idea. Screw Prontera!

"Come on, Poing!" she called to the poring. "We're leaving this hellhole behind!"

With a curious glance up at his master, the poring reluctantly left the throbbing pupa he was watching and took his usual spot bouncing just behind Lorianne's heels. They spent a good deal of time travelling through the mountains north of Prontera known as Mount Mjolnir, where it was believed that the great hammer of Thor, Mjolnir, was created. However, Lorianne soon got hungry, and even though she was used to disgusting food as all soldiers were, she didn't particularly want to try argiope steak anytime soon. Lucky for Poing, there were plenty of ripe, fallen apples to sate his hunger, but his master wanted something more filling.

Stomach rumbling, she set off for the nearest city, which was…she wasn't really sure _what_ the nearest city was. Frowning, she tried to recall what geography that noisy bard was babbling about before he smashed his guitar on a drunken blacksmith that was trying to grope him several times. Most of what she could recall was an all out brawl in the bar during that incident though. Geffen was…east? Or was it north? West? Unsure of where she was heading, Lorianne chose a direction at random and headed that way, decimating any monster that was stupid enough to cross a hungry knight. She suffered a few minor scratches from those encounters, but they were nothing compared to some of the injuries she had had experienced in the past. Poing often stopped to silently mock the fallen creatures and in the case of the rockers, sometimes paused to loot their violins.

Several hours passed until it was getting close to sun down, yet she _still_ hadn't found any sign of a city. Muttering profanities that would put a pirate to shame, Lorianne threw a rock at a flora in frustration. Opening its mouth wide, the flora promptly ate the stone, chewing noisily on it before it regurgitated the pebble on a fabre. Lorianne flat out refused to eat giant caterpillars, mantises, hornets were too disturbingly human looking, dragons just sounded painful to eat and bigfoots were just big. Their size usually wouldn't deter her from killing them, but cooking them, even in parts, took a long, long time, longer than she would be willing to wait.

Another hour passed. Poing had taken to sleeping contentedly in Lorianne's arms as she carried him through the mountains. The knight herself was starting to wish she was a poring, seeing how happy and satisfied her pet was. Her stomach rumbled hungrily, reminding her she still hadn't eaten since the morning. Just about ready to scream, 'stupid fucking piece of crap mountains!' and go skewer a bigfoot to fry it, Lorianne nearly cheered when she saw lights in the distance. Lights meant humans, which meant FOOD!

As she ran towards the lights, Poing sleepily made a sound of annoyance from the sudden movement, tiredly rousing himself from his place nestled in his master's arms. Seeing this, the knight grinned. "See that, Poing!" she cried, pointing to the lights. "It's another city! With _real_ food!" The poring made a complaining sound, but stayed where he was, unwilling to bounce quickly along the ground in order to keep up with his master if he jumped from her arms.

Drawing nearer to the city, Lorianne realised she was at Al De Baran from the banner hung near the entrance. Great, just fucking great. She was at a city of bloody self-destructive alchemists with a whopping big-ass clock tower as the main feature. Why the hell they needed such a goddamn big clock tower, she would never understand.

Upon arrival at the bridge to the central square of the lake-river city, however, Lorianne was greeted with an unusual sight for a place that was known for being peaceful, aside from the minor explosions from the alchemists. An alchemist wielding a light throwing axe known as a tomahawk, was surrounded by an angry mob of people, the only things keeping them at bay being his three summoned floras. The gigantic, man-eating flowers snapped at the mob, their roots sending cracks in the pavement on the street. As Lorianne drew closer, the angry shouts became more understandable.

"Get out of here! You're not wanted here, you despicable, dropout alchemist!"

"What are you trying to achieve with your stupid experiments, Themofast?"

"Oh, so being able to create marine spheres and floras is fine with the alchemist guild, but trying understand why some pets can speak human tongue is not?" he indignantly snapped back. "And creating standard, pitifully weak explosives is fine, but trying to improve on them is not? I'm goddamn sick and tired of your close-mindedness! Tradition? Fuck tradition if tradition is using old out-of-date medicine books! You lot can stay as potion-brewing merchant bitches, but not me! Hell no! The day I do that is when it starts pissing Baphomets all over Rune-Midgard!"

Lorianne felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile as there were more angry shouts at his words. Here was someone that was in the same predicament as her and besides, she liked the way this alchemist spoke already. Only one thing she could do…

--

Author's Notes: Ew, flora puke. Damn, and it seems my disappearance from the writing world has made my chapters shorter than usual. This chapter's LESS THAN HALF my usual length! I find it's really difficult to get over 4k words per chapter. (sighs) Oh yeah, and what's this I hear about Yuno being the capital of Schwarzwald Republic? Huh? CoNfuSIoN! Never heard of there being a Republic in RO.

Oh yes, before I forget. If you have an RO character that you would like to see as a cameo in the collaboration, _Woosh!_, please post your character name (an 'actual' name as well as a 'screen name' is preferred. For example, an 'actual' name could be Tyler Li, and his 'screen name' could be The Reindeer Man. Please don't make the screen name too complex, unpronounceable and/or 'silly').

Okay, so if you wanna see your character in a free for all fight in _Woosh!_, post your character's name, job, fighting style, weapons used and a bit of their personality. We'll try to get your character in character based on how we imagine your character to act from what you've told us, but please don't flame us if we're miles off the mark. We'll choose which characters to cameo in if we get too many, and at this point in time, we're favouring vitality type character over agility type characters. Also, sorry for people with spellcasters (mages, wizards, sages, high wizards, professors and casting supernovices), we can't cameo those. Their spell spammage will be too much for our poor arena. Sorry. And no, your cameo, no matter how uber s/he is, can't win the fight.

Comments and critique welcome.


	3. Of Drinks and Hangovers

Author's Notes: Damn I didn't realise how short my previous chapter was. It always looks so long on Microsoft Word…Oh well, hopefully this will make up for the short length. Did I mention I love male wizards/heh I'm starting to feel sorry for Trian…poor wizard…every time he's mentioned, it's always about him and his arc wand…

I'm trying to keep this fic under ten chapters (including the prologue and epilogue), as this is meant to be a short story. I can't afford to have 3 full length fanfictions running at the same time. They'll start to drag more than they do already…

Oh yes, and registry for _Woosh!_'s free-for-all fight is closed. We have our (unlucky) 13 fighters. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Ragnarok Online, but I own an arc wand…dammit! The poring stole it as well! (vein) DIE poring! (misses) Argh! Come back here! (chases)

Reviewer Responses

L.C. Techno – Aw…at least the alchemist made you want to stick around. :D Sorry, the rogue doesn't make much of an appearance in this fic, though he will in the ones coming up/gg Yay, the Gago's fighting! X3 We're thinking of pitting him against either a knight or a poison dagger assassin. /hmm

Skye Mihalak – Hehe, thanks. You'll see how it's linked in the end. ;) Really/gg

Tom Valor – Yeah, now that I think of it, part of this chapter could have been included in the first one. I've been trying to keep to one main POV per chapter, since I have a tendency to switch POVs like crazy, hence confusing the reader. (sweat) I'll do my best not to let the dialogue degenerate like that. :D

--

Ragnarok Online – Things Unforgotten

Chapter 2 – Of Drinks and Hangovers

--

One of the same,

Many different.

Few identical,

Several similar.

--

"Don't you pathetic, cowering weaklings dare touch that alchemist! Or you'll have to answer to me, and I'll be damned if I really need my sword to deal with deadbeats like you!"

The surrounded alchemist, Keilith Themofast looked out to the southern bridge where the voice came from. He saw a formidable looking woman with a huge broadsword strapped to her back. She had short, dark brown hair that was kept from her face with a simple hair band and was dressed as a Pronteran knight. However, he supposed she was a bit of an unorthodox one, judging from the studs on her gauntlets and the fact she was willing to help him for no apparent reason. Keilith arched an eyebrow at the sight of the poring in her arms. Interesting…

"Get outta here, knight! Keep your nose out of alchemists' business!" shouted one angry alchemist. "Go back to Prontera where you and your puny poring belong!"

His words seemed to strike a nerve in the knight, who carefully put down the poring before striding forward towards the alchemist. Sensing danger, the masses of people discreetly moved away from the man just as she slugged him in the face. Staggering back a few steps and clutching his bleeding face, the alchemist screamed, "What the hell are you thinking, knight? You can't just go around beating people up! This isn't Morroc, dammit!"

"Oh yeah? And what the name of Bapho's balls were you going to do to _him_?" she retorted, pointing at Keilith. "Give him daisies? No bloody fucking purple shit you weren't! I'm not a goddamn idiot!"

A woman stepped forward, the expression on her face carefully blank. "I'm afraid you don't understand," she said politely. "This is an alchemist guild matter that doesn't concern you, lady knight. If you may, please leave."

Keilith inwardly groaned. He sincerely hoped the knight wouldn't believe the female alchemist, or else he would probably have to waste another three of his plant bottles. However, he surmised he wouldn't need to worry, judging from the look on the knight's face. She obviously didn't think the alchemist was telling the truth. "You're trying to kick him from your guild for doing things differently, right?" she asked with a friendly looking, albeit strained smile, much to Keilith's surprise.

The female alchemist paused, before slowly nodding. She looked unsure…Keilith frowned, keeping most of his bubbling anger from showing on his face. It was so damn _typical_ of her! She never could decide whether she wanted him dead or if she wanted to keep him close. At least he'd know where he stood if she definitely wanted his corpse rotting at the bottom of Bylan…

The knight snapped the broadsword from the straps on her back. Everyone subconsciously backed away at the sight of the immense weapon. "Then it has everything to do with me!" Nobody wanted to mess with the scary looking knight, especially when she looked like she knew how to use her giant weapon. The passive look on the female alchemist's face was replaced with a flash of anger before settling into a disturbingly composed expression. Keilith gripped his tomahawk tighter. He got the feeling she was planning something; last time she got that look on her face, he had lost almost everything…

"Fine then, lady knight," she said, her voice dangerously calm. "You can keep Themofast. He can be your problem now."

With a look from the woman, the mob departed as one, many spitting in disgust and throwing Keilith dirty looks. He breathed a heavy sigh of relief before moving towards his floras. Muttering a few words and quietly clapping his hands, he sent his floras back into the ground whence they came. Seeing the large cracks in the paved street, Keilith shrugged off any concerns associated with paying for damages. He expected the guild would cover the coasts, since he used up three of his precious few plant bottles.

Looking up, he saw his metaphorical 'knight in shining armour' tapping her foot impatiently, her broadsword returned to its place strapped on her back. Keilith held no illusions that he was in the clear yet. She still looked angry…

"Thanks," he said, hooking his tomahawk on his belt. "I didn't know how long I could hold them off for."

"No need," she replied, looking agitated. "Just tell me where the hell the nearest bar is and I'll be happy."

"I'll take you there," Keilith offered, much to his own surprise. Realising he didn't know her name, he continued, "Lady…?"

"Lorianne Sharielerin. Just Lorianne is fine," she said. "Just give me the damn directions. I haven't eaten since morning."

"Head down the east bridge behind you and you'll see a bar called 'The Hungry Seal', first turn to your right."

Without bothering to reply, the knight dashed off, her poring hurriedly bouncing to keep up with his master. Keilith grinned as he watched them run off while he took a much more leisurely pace. It wouldn't be long until he saw them again; He was headed for the bar himself.

--

Business was as usual; busy, but not too busy. People constantly filtered in and out of the bar, most of them being alchemists, since it was so late at night, or early in the morning depending on how you viewed things. Lorianne sat alone, eating her much needed meal with a bottle of some sort of alcohol next to her plate. She looked up when someone slid into the seat beside hers.

"Oh, it's you again," she said, turning back to her meal. "I thought alchemists wouldn't need to come to places like these, since they can brew their own alcohol."

Keilith leaned on the bench top. "One argiope steak," he called to the barkeep, ignoring the disgusted look she shot him. "Just because we can make alcohol doesn't mean we can make it taste good," he continued to the knight. "And sometimes brewing is more effort than it's worth."

They sat in silence, the knight taking generous swigs of her drink between mouthfuls of her meal. When Keilith was served his meal, she wrinkled her nose in disgust, indiscreetly moving away from him. "How the hell can you eat that?" she said incredulously, pinching her nose. "It stinks worse than the Culverts!"

"It's an acquired taste, and it tastes much better than it smells," he replied, digging in with relish. "It's an Al De Baran speciality. You should try some. Here." He held out his fork with a small square of argiope meat stuck on the end.

She deflected his fork with her own. "Nothing in Rune-Midgard will make me want to eat giant caterpillar."

He smirked. "A pity…"

They continued eating, their thoughts on other things. The bar buzzed with noise, despite it being close to midnight. Any kind of restaurant or shop in Al De Baran often were open at odd hours (by other cities' standards), mainly because their major customers were absentminded alchemists, who didn't keep track of time very well. Which also contributed to the reasoning behind the city's famed clock tower. It didn't do much to change the alchemists' habits though; they still had their lunches as late as ten at night.

A few minutes passed before the knight spoke again. "So, why is your guild trying to publicly kill you?" she asked casually, finishing off the remains of her food.

"They aren't my guild," Keilith retorted heatedly, insulted at her assumption. "I don't want anything more to do with the damn guild. I have more than my fair share of problems from them."

She snorted. "People don't need guilds, dammit!" she growled into her drink. "People should be free to do what they want. Wars were fought for freedom, but guilds don't do anything but restrict what you do."

"Oh really now?" Keilith murmured, genuinely interested despite his bored outward appearance. "What's so restrictive about the Pronteran Chivalry? I've often heard that they promote liberty, not oppose it."

"That's what they _want_ you to think!" she snapped, slamming her fist on the bench top, attracting a few stares from the patrons. The alchemist arched an eyebrow at her outburst before continuing to eat. "It's full of hypocritical asshats!" the knight hissed, lowering her voice, "They talk about maintaining self control, but _I'm_ the one that gets into trouble when it's their fault they react so violently to insults! Not to mention some of the lusty fetishes some of them have."

"I see…" he replied non-committally.

The knight narrowed her eyes. "You said you weren't part of the guild, right?"

Keilith swirled the wine in his glass, savouring the flavour. "Yes."

"Then I suppose they were trying to recruit you then?" she said sardonically, scepticism dripping from her words. "I've never heard of alchemists trying to kill each other in order to join the guild."

Keilith snorted. "You have _no_ idea," he said quietly, staring at the small bubbles that remained in his wine. "I used to be part of the alchemist's guild, but like you said, guilds are too restrictive. I left a long time ago, but I made some enemies. There are a few that want me to go back, but most would rather see me floating in the lake with a dagger in my back."

"Then just leave this place," the knight said matter-of-factly. "No one's stopping you."

The alchemist looked up at her in surprise. She was idly scratching at her bottle of alcohol's label while tapping her foot against the bench. He'd never really thought of leaving Al De Baran. It was an idea worth thinking about. "We'll see…" he mumbled, finishing his meal while the knight chugged a good portion of her drink.

--

An hour later, the knight was so obviously drunk it wasn't funny. Keilith was surprised she hadn't punched him in the face yet, although she had been less picky concerning other people in the bar. Some frequenters had even taken to betting on the knight as fights broke out. Several drunkards had already been chucked out by the knight and she was happily throwing out several more. The only reason she the knight herself hadn't been thrown out yet was because, in a strange way, she was helping to reduce the damage done to the bar, which the barkeep was thankful for. And the fact remained that nobody wanted to tell her to leave for fear of getting slugged in the gut, or lower down if you happened to be male.

Suddenly, she came up to Keilith (he was somewhat amused at the ways she tried to keep her balance as she tried to walk in a straight line) and slung an arm around his neck. Much to his horror, she raised her bottle and started shouting for some more.

_How much more alcohol can she take?_ he wondered incredulously. _She's had to have had at least three bottles by now! Even Baphomet would've been knocked out by now!_

He rose to leave the bar. He had only meant to stay for half an hour to sate his hunger, but the knight had distracted him for far too long. "Aw, geez, you're leaving already?" Lorianne said, her voice heavily slurred as she leaned heavily on Keilith. "It's only…only two in the morning! There's still plenty more time in the night!"

"It's _three_ in the morning," Keilith corrected impatiently, irritated at being stopped. "And–"

He was abruptly cut off when she suddenly collapsed on him. The knight, being much heavier than him (stupid knights and their goddamn heavy armour), sent him sprawling on the ground as some snickers spread amongst a few of the regular patrons. Luckily for everyone, Keilith wasn't carrying any of his explosives, but there was still a nasty sounding crack from one of his bottles. After he dragged himself out from under the knight, he quickly checked what had broken inside his coat. Fortunately, it was only a slim red potion, but it was leaving a nasty stain on his clothes.

Staring dispassionately down at the snoring knight, Keilith wished she hadn't gotten involved in his matters. There was going to be trouble coming out of this, he knew it. Damn, he was too tired for this…"Hey, barkeep!" he shouted above the noise of the pub. "Can you lend me your son for a moment? I'm going to need help dragging this lump of armour home." To make his point, he kicked the unconscious woman, with no response.

The barman cast a cursory glace towards the alchemist. "Alright," he called back, turning to his other customers. "Just make it quick. There are still some people coming in." He shouted to a tall, lanky man. "Lyle! Help Mr Themofast with this knight, alright?"

The man blinked before he made his way to Keilith and the sleeping woman. With a friendly nod to the alchemist, he took one end of the knight while Keilith took the other. Together, they both awkwardly carried the woman out of the bar towards Keilith's house, the alchemist giving directions. Upon reaching his inconspicuous house, Keilith let go of his end of the knight to open the front door before helping to carry her again.

They entered a room that was had books stacked all over the place, sheets of papers scattered all over the floor and tables and pots of almost every sort of medicinal plant known. To say the room looked like an overgrown greenhouse combined with a library after a tornado had passed through simply didn't do the mess justice. Lyle gingerly stepped over a half-open book about the history of Glastheim. "You live here?" he said incredulously. "How can you stand the mess? I can't even walk in here without almost stepping on something!"

"Hey, don't insult the mess," Keilith said, absentmindedly nudging a pot to the side with his foot. "Door to your left."

Lyle looked like he was about to comment, but instead settled for shaking his head in disbelief. Carefully shuffling through the doorway (and trying to avoid stepping on anything), they put the sleeping knight on the bed. Brushing his hands off, Lyle doffed his hat before saying, "Well, I'll be off now, Mr Themofast, if you don't mind, sir."

Keilith put the politeness down as part of Lyle's job description. Be nice to the customer and they'll remember you and come back. No one in their right mind would be overly friendly with him, especially with the animosity the guild had towards him. But he was still a paying customer, and he took the pains to be inconspicuous so as not to rouse the ire of others dining. "I've already paid your father my tab and a bit extra," Keilith said. "It should cover all the costs."

Lyle smiled and tipped his hat before cautiously picking his way back out of the house and quietly shutting the door behind him. Sighing, the alchemist unfastened the clasp of his cape and hung it on a hook before taking off his coat and throwing it on a pile of similarly blemished clothing. Getting rid of stains left behind by spilled potions was a highly tedious task, hence Keilith didn't bother with it. He'd just wear it when he was working something that was highly volatile or something

Untucking the black shirt he wore underneath, Keilith wandered over to his desk and slumped in the chair in front of it, suddenly feeling very tired. He spotted the knight's poring watching the changing colours of his carefully cultivated shining plant with fascination, but he didn't pay the creature any heed. He was too tired to think too hard about anything right now. With a yawn, he leaned on the desk, pillowing his head in his arms, and fell asleep.

--

_He knew he was in Morroc from the structure of the buildings, even though he had never actually been there before. He had seen pictures of the magnificent palace at the centre of the desert city, although Morroc had fallen far from grace since the time of Osiris. Spotting someone in the distance, he found his eyes being drawn towards the person, despite there being several other people milling around. The boy – that's all he was, really – was running amidst the crowd with a grin that could almost be described as insane. He wore simple clothing, like any non-impoverished resident, yet Keilith was certain the boy was a thief. A lock of his dark brown hair covered one eye, giving him an oddly mischievous look._

_As he ran, bolts of fire and the glowing lights of a soul strike trailed behind him. He leaped, jumped and twisted out of the way to avoid being hit by the barrage of spells, laughing all the time while he clutched an ornate arc wand. An ice wall suddenly sprung up in front of him, but he simply ran to the edge of it, bounced off the wall of a house and used the barrier to help him jump onto the roof. He seemed to be enjoying himself far too much as he swung from a washing line back down to the ground again. As he passed Keilith, the alchemist caught a glimpse of the boy's face and took a step back in surprise._

"…_Those eyes…" He had seen them somewhere before…_

_Suddenly a voice called out. "Wow, hode-face sure knows how to make things exciting, doesn't he, NightEyes?"_

--

Keilith woke to early morning light from his window hitting him full in the face. Squinting, he shielded his eyes from the sun's rays until they could adjust to the brightness. Damn, he still felt tired. He must've only gotten, what, two or three hours of sleep. And that dream didn't help his head feel any better. And he'd probably have to make a hangover remedy for the knight before she woke up and trashed the place or something. He groaned. He needed some coffee…

Mumbling a list of profanities under his breath, the alchemist dragged himself away from the table and went to find the kitchen. Almost walking into a wall, he searched around for some of his coffee he had put somewhere around here. Soon though, Keilith had a steaming hot cup of coffee in his hands, easing away some of the tiredness he had accumulated over several days. However, it didn't do anything to get rid of the fuzz that was hanging over his mind. His immediate need for coffee satisfied, he stumbled back into the main room to begin making a hangover remedy for the knight.

As Keilith set about brewing the mixture, he briefly wondered why he was doing all this for a knight he barely knew. Maybe it was because she was the first person that had ever helped him before. Or perhaps it was because he found many of her views coincided with his own. His mind recalled part of their earlier conversation.

"_People don't need guilds, dammit!"_

"_Guilds don't do anything but restrict what you do."_

"_Then just leave this place. No one's stopping you."_

With a small smile, he reached out to pluck a leaf from the aloe plant growing by the windowsill, adding it to the gross looking brew. He'd often complained of the alchemist's guild being like chains, restricting his want to further advance alchemy, but he'd never done anything to get around the problem. There really wasn't much that was keeping him from leaving Al De Baran, perhaps except for the rare plants that he had painstakingly grown himself. Perhaps the guild had had a better hold on him than he had previously thought. Or was it her…?

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Lorianne's poring watching his every move intently from one of the stools in the middle of all his clutter. Pausing, he stared at the poring, who stared back. The creature seemed more intelligent than the others of his kind bouncing in the Pronteran fields. Yet, the poring didn't have the ability to speak, or at least, didn't want to speak. If it was the former (which he strongly suspected), he may have to rethink his theory regarding talking pets. It seemed that every time he derived useful information that would help him create an imperfect Homunculus, man-made creatures with the intelligence of a person and the ability to speak in human tongue, something would come along and prove his theories wrong. So much work for a Homunculus that wasn't even complete…

Keilith rubbed his eyes tiredly, feeling a headache coming on. He briefly wondered if all the time and effort he put into secretly researching a forbidden art was worth it. It had certainly driven him to become an outcast in the alchemy world, though those fools certainly had no idea what he was doing. He had taken great pains to make sure that there was no tangible evidence of his research, even in his own home. He knew he was being watched carefully; the leader of the alchemist guild was extremely cynical and distrustful, especially when it came to him. The alchemist looked up at the poring again, who had a suspiciously innocent look on his blobby face. Maybe he'd make one last go at it…

…_I think it's time I left this place…_

Hearing a muffled thump from the direction of his room, Keilith sighed, getting up to see to the knight. No doubt she had fallen on some of his books. Keilith leant against the door frame, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth as he regarded the knight's dishevelled and disorientated state. "I've got a hangover remedy."

She winced at the sound of his voice. "Don't need your damn remedy," he snapped, clutching her head.

Keilith folded his arms. "Think about it this way," he said. "If you take the hangover remedy, you won't trash my place, and if you don't trash my place, I won't have to blow you up. Blowing people up leaves a nasty hole in my floor, not to mention what it does to my roof." He held up the tube with the angry looking liquid to further illustrate his point. Well, what he said _was_ true. There was a reason why there was strange looking bloodstain surrounded by burn marks on his wooden floor…

The knight seemed torn between either stubbornly sticking to her guns or accepting the hangover remedy and getting rid of the hammer of pain that was slamming into her head. "…Fine. Give me the damn thing."

The alchemist grinned. "Knew you'd see it my way."

Sauntering back to the main room, Keilith poured his disgusting looking brew into a cup. He looked up to see the knight's poring staring at him again. Dammit, didn't the damn blob have anything better to do than to watch his every move? Keilith wouldn't admit, even to himself, that it was disconcerting to be observed so closely, even if it was _just_ a poring that was staring at him. Shrugging off the prickling sensation he was getting down his back, Keilith returned to his room with the cup and proffered it to the knight, who was sitting up and groggily squinting around.

"Damn, did you make this crap?" she sniffed disdainfully, unsteadily taking the cup. "It better not taste as foul as it looks."

"Don't worry, it doesn't," he said reassuringly. "It just tastes worse," he added with a smirk as she gagged on his concoction.

Swallowing a mouthful of the remedy with great difficulty, she choked out furiously, "What the hell? Are trying to kill me or something?"

Keilith turned and walked out with a grin. "Drink it all, knight," he said with a backward wave. "You'll feel better in no time."

The alchemist felt inexplicably happy as he listened to the stream of cussing coming from his room as he picked up some of his books off the floor. Hmm…Universal Theory. He wouldn't be needing that. The Immortals. He didn't intend to go out and fight those incredibly powerful beings, so there was no need for that either.

He picked up a comprehensive guide to plants and thumbed through the pages in mild interest. There was basic application of common herbs to the incomplete research and speculation about the Yggdrasil, the World Tree. Many adventurers told of the amazing healing powers of Yggdrasil seeds and berries and several bards had sung of the miraculous revival of heroes near death. However something nagged Keilith every time someone mentioned anything related to the Yggdrasil.

…No one had actually _seen_ the tree.

The book he held thought it was because the tree was everywhere, all the time. In other words, it _was_ Rune-Midgard, but Keilith thought otherwise. Where else did the berries come from? They couldn't magically appear on the ground! And if there were seeds, that meant a tree could grow from it, right?

Keilith slapped the book into his face. Dammit, he was doing it again! He was getting distracted from his main work. Too many things he wanted to achieve and so little time. Ugh…

"That book's going to get stuck on the end of your nose if you keep on reading like that."

The alchemist lifted the book and peered out at the knight from under the pages. "I was thinking that seeing the ink on this page is preferable to seeing your face."

She bristled at his words, her grip on his cup tightening as if she would've dearly loved to throw it at his face. "I was thinking that if your remedy didn't work so damn well, you'd look prettier without eyes," she growled.

Ignoring her, Keilith dropped the book on the floor before picking up a volume about the flora and fauna of Mt Mjolnir, idly flipping through it. Several moments of simmering silence passed before he snapped the book shut and stomped around the room, searching for something. Where was it? He was sure he put it somewhere around here…

"…What are you doing?" the knight finally asked after several minutes of watching him dig through all his things.

Oh, wait, his hand axe was still hung on his belt. Keilith resisted the urge to hit himself in the head for being so stupid. God, if he was starting to be so preoccupied that he can't even remember where he kept his tomahawk, he'd start being more careless about more serious things.

"I'm leaving," he replied while searching around for his more portable balances, mentally wondering how he was going to start over again. "You're right, there isn't anyone stopping me from leaving this place. Maybe now I can put the guild behind me. It's all thanks to you, you know."

Picking back up his plant book, he looked up at the knight. To his surprise, he saw a small smile on her usually cranky looking face. "No problem," she said, looking slightly embarrassed, "but I didn't do anything, really."

He couldn't help but smile to himself. She had helped him far more than she thought. Finally gathering up all the things he thought he'd need, he stuffed them into a bag before slipping on a coat over his shirt. Keilith tightened a bandoleer with small vials of some his more...powerful explosives inside the belt's loops across his chest. Fastening his travelling cloak with a clasp around his neck, he turned to the knight. "Why are you still here?" he asked, curiously.

"Since you're leaving this place and I'm leaving Al De Baran…" She hesitated for a moment, looking unsure of how to word her thoughts before she ploughed on. "I was thinking that you'd be welcome to join Poing and I. We're not going anywhere in particular, just wandering around…"

Keilith looked down at the poring that bounced towards his master's feet. Poing, eh? Strange name for a pet. But then again, strange pet for a knight like her. The poring grinned up at him. He was sure the creature had probably taken something from his house with that deceivingly innocent look on his face. This might be a good start to beginning his Homunculus research again. And this time, he wouldn't have to worry about coding his notes. Perhaps this time he'd find something he didn't see before…

He picked up his bag and turned the knob on his door. Holding it open, he said, "Lead the way, partner."

--

Author's Notes: Whoa, it's a record. Over 5k words. :D The 'no bloody fucking purple shit' was my friend's idea. I was asking around for some more…colourful…swearing and well…at least _she'll_ be happy. (rolls eyes) Bapho Balls hehehehe (insert inside joke here XP) And why is it that coming up with good bar names is incredibly hard? Argiope steak reminds me of durian. It smells really bad, but it supposedly tastes nice.

…I flatly refuse to go anywhere near durian, let alone eat it. I think the word 'immortals' is the best word to describe the MvPs in writing terms, so a heads up to Tom Valor! Even though most of you probably already know it, his series, Crimson Twilight is uber. Go read it:D And as a shameless plug, go read _Woosh!_ It's in my profile, and it's a collaboration between delsora and I. It hasn't got nearly as many hits as this one (which makes me sad) either. It must be the summary. /sob Come on, you _know_ you want to read about a free for all fight…:D

I'm not sure if I pulled this chapter off well enough to illustrate why these two kind of understand each other, even though Kei was being a smartass. (pokes fingers nervously together) If I get this written correctly, there should be four more chapters, including the epilogue. ;) Comments and critique welcome.


	4. Mistress Night

Author's Notes: Sorry for the lack of updates. It took me a while to get settled into Year 11, and I haven't had much time to draw, much less write. Not to mention ideas weren't flowing (I should have written them down…) Also, _Whoosh! _will be progressing even slower, since getting together to collaborate is really hard right now. This chapter I'll be trying out something similar to what I did in my one-shot in this chapter. Let's see how I go this time…

Disclaimer: Because chronic laziness is overcoming me (i.e. My level 7 Procrastinate is kicking in), this will be the last disclaimer for this fic. Ragnarok Online doesn't belong to me. Yup…

--

A line of blood appeared on Lorianne's cheek. With a growl, she swung her sword at the annoying little gnat that grazed her face, but the insect flew up out of her reach. Scores of hornets littered the grass around her until there were only the large, purple bodied ones. Guarding the airborne insect queen herself, they were Mistress' elite bodyguards. They may have been larger than the dead hornets, but they were much faster and didn't mindlessly charge at her. The insects even had some kind of attacking and defending formation! Lorianne's distaste for the Mjolnir Mountains was worsening by the minute. Why was she back here again? Oh yeah, the alchemist…

Keilith looked slightly frazzled with the huge amount of dodging he had been doing, and he was starting to cough again, but he seemed mostly none the worse for wear. Despite the fact he carried an axe, the alchemist was almost useless in battle. She couldn't rely on him to help her out, or even to keep her poring safe. The damnable insects targeted him almost as often they targeted Lorianne herself, and she was in no position to help him. Concentrating on keeping the hornets at bay, she swung her sword at the bugs again. Suddenly, she saw a very familiar axe flash past her face and bury itself into one of the purple hornets. Going down with a horrible screech, the bug plummeted to the ground. Spurred on by the death, the hornets turned their attention to Keilith at Mistress' high pitched command. Realising what this meant, Lorianne made a mad dash towards the alchemist…

--

Ragnarok Online

Things Unforgotten

Chapter 3 – Mistress Night

--

See Dawn,

Where the sun wakes,

High in the sky.

Watching the world,

Running and turning,

Before she sleeps,

Wrapped in the shroud

Of Dusk.

--

Lorianne thought she had seen the last of Mount Mjolnir, but it turned out that the alchemist needed some plants from the area, so the unusual trio ended up backtracking to the hills. Sheez, alchemists were always so obsessed with plants. And explosions. She couldn't forget the explosions. She couldn't understand for the life of her why they'd dedicate so much of their time over greenery and things that were likely to spontaneously self-combust. Why the hell had she invited one of those walking time bombs to join her anyway?

The knight stole a quick glance to the alchemist in question. He seemed to be enjoying their break from walking to the fullest, relaxing by the lake nearby. He lay on the grass, lost in his own thoughts of who knows what. There was something in that smile of his. Something that screamed, 'I don't care,' to her. For some reason, she liked that. But then, of course, there was that fact he was an alchemist, i.e. one crazy bastard. She didn't like that. But…

Lorianne watched her poring half-drag a whole flower towards the alchemist. Keilith sat up as the poring neared him, seeming mildly surprised as he praised the creature, taking the plant. Lorianne frowned, inwardly surprised at Poing's unusual friendliness. The Poing she knew did not help out. He was often the cause of many mishaps and much mischief, especially to strangers. That was one reason she enjoyed having her pet with her almost all the time. The fact that her poring was associating so freely with the alchemist…disturbed her…

Relinquishing her place in the shade under a tree, she walked over to Keilith and plonked herself down near him. With a blink of his beady eyes, Poing joyfully hopped into the knight's arms. Lorianne gave him a loving squeeze before turning to Keilith, who wore back his old – she couldn't find a proper word for it – smartass smile.

"So, you decided to join us after all…"

Lorianne didn't even bother to reply. The alchemist sighed at the lack of response and lay back down on the grass, but not before he stowed the plant away in his bag.

"You know, seriously," he began, lightly chewing on a blade of grass, "Why the hell did you bother asking me to join you if you're just going pretend I'm not here?"

She didn't grace him with a reply. Aside from the fact she had no idea herself, she wondered if he would go away if he got bored of trying to talk to her if she didn't reply. But it seemed he had a lot of patience, pestering her with questions even after they left the lake far behind them. 'Why are you such a grouch?' and 'Why do you have a poring?' were some of the many pointless questions he bugged her with. It was kind of like having a gnat constantly buzzing in her ear. The alchemist only shut up when Lorianne began to walk faster with large strides, making the alchemist jog to keep up. She was slightly worried when he started having to stop to cough long hacks, like his lungs couldn't handle so much stress, but it was either that or having him talking her ear off.

…She was kind enough to stop and take rests for the alchemist's benefit though.

--

"_I'll never give up! I'll fight to the very end!"_

_The knight shook his head sadly at the injured swordswoman. "It's all very well to have courage and determination, Sharielerin, but you need to learn how to hold back sometimes. You're endangering yourself when you jump into battle, and when you are assigned to a team, you will be endangering your party members."_

"_I don't care about pain! I won't be endangering my team if there's nothing there to endanger them!"_

_The knight slammed his fist on the table. "Listen to yourself, Sharielerin!" he shouted. "If you keep on recklessly charging into battle, you'll wind up dead!"_

"_I don't care about dying!" she screamed back at him. "I live for the glory of a good fight, and if I die, so be it!"_

"_You're a berserker, Sharielerin, do you understand? You're a person that puts everyone in danger!" The knight quickly calmed down after his outburst. "I've walked with Death several times, but I have yet to feast my eyes on Glory. There is no glory in dying stupidly. There's a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and you're walking on the side of stupid. Don't live for death, Sharielerin. Don't go out just to seek death. Find something else to live for, to protect. And maybe, just maybe, you'll want to stay alive."_

--

The hornets' stingers hurt like crazy, that was to be sure. Somehow, they insects had managed to evolve long, retractable stingers that could puncture through even the toughest of armour. Lorianne could feel their venom coursing through her body, like rain seeping through cracks in the ground. It felt as if thousands of little arms were pulling at her limbs, trying to hold her back. Her sword felt heavy in her hands, its tip almost dipping into the ground. She had never held her broadsword so sloppily since she was a midgety little brat. More and more hits rained down on her. She could barely move, much less try to cut the annoying little shits down from the air. Her sword slipped from her lax fingers. There was no way this could be the end for her. Lorianne refused to accept that she was being beaten down by a bunch of insects.

Suddenly, she saw Keilith's axe bury itself into another of the purple hornets. Briefly, she wondered when he had the time to retrieve the weapon; she swore the other dead hornet was at least five feet away. The insects' loud shrieks rung in her ears, but she couldn't quite see them properly. Everything was starting to blur before her. Strangely, they seemed to be getting softer…

Dizziness overcoming her ability to remain standing, Lorianne dropped to one knee. There was a…something there, near her foot…What was it? Forcing her arm to move, she reached out to grasp the what-ever-it-was. Potion shaped…Must be a potion of some sort. Her mind was working agonisingly slow. Trying to put two and two together took an excruciatingly long time. Potion. Alchemist. Poisoned. Potion. Antidote? It was worth a try…

Getting the stopper to open with her limp fingers was almost as hard as forcing herself to swallow the liquid that was trying to slosh down her throat. Strangely enough, the potion was sugary, as if she had taken a swig of the lemonade she used to drink as a child. It was quite unlike the bitter taste she usually associated with potions. A stinging sensation began from her stomach and spread through all her limbs. Shortly after, she finally felt like she was back to normal, albeit a little bit sore. The first thing she saw was the alchemist running around like crazy, being chased by Mistress and her swarm. If it wasn't for the fact he was kind of half screaming, she would have found the scene very amusing. Picking up her broadsword, she experimentally swung it a few times to get the feeling back into her arms.

"Alright, you little shits, you're going to pay for that!"

Charging into the fray, she managed to dispatch two of the hornets before they turned their attention to her. She focused on taking out the hornets, not afraid to take a few hits if it meant she could cut one of the hornets from the air. She was so focused on the hornets that she completely forgot about the queen bee herself.

"Lorianne! Mistress is casting!"

Lorianne turned to see Mistress in the finishing stages of the Jupitel Thunder spell. Knowing she had no chance to interrupt the insect's spell casting, she instead took a defensive stance, preparing to take the most of the powerful spell. It would hurt a lot, she knew, but she could survive it…

It turned out she needn't have bothered. At the very last moment, she found Keilith standing protectively in front of her, shielding her from the brunt of the spell. Lorianne raised her arms to block out the light that burst upon the electric globe's impact against the crazy alchemist. Soon, the dazzling light faded away. Lorianne watched Keilith sink to his knees before collapsing to the ground.

"Idiot!" she snapped. "Why the hell did you do that?"

The alchemist gave her a weak smile and opened his mouth to say something. But his strength gave out, his grey eyes fluttering closed.

"Bastard…" Lorianne clenched her fists, not noticing how much her hands were shaking. Unexplainable anger burned through her more intensely than she had ever felt before. This time, though, instead of welcoming the anger with open arms like she usually did, she pushed away the red fog. The burns on Keilith looked terrible, peeling horribly. She gave an involuntary shudder and shook her head. There was no way she could deal with Mistress with the downed alchemist occupying her thoughts. Sheathing her sword, she picked up the alchemist and, hoping that the burns would not be aggravated too much, ran away for the first time in her life. It went against everything she had stood for in the past, but there was too much at stake to risk finishing the battle with Mistress…

--

"_You're so weak you can't even protect yourself! How the hell can you say that you will protect others?"_

_The acolyte scratched at her head. "Maybe I didn't word what I meant correctly. I may be weak physically, but my job is to make sure you stay alive, and yours is to make sure that we both do. Alone, you might only be able to handle the second level, and I only perhaps the first. But together, we can go deeper into the caves."_

_The swordie sat down on a rock and leaned on her sword. "I think I'm getting the short end of the stick in this 'partnership'. I have to protect both of us, yet you only need to occasionally heal me and bless me. I'd rather go solo, thank-you-very-much! All the other swordies that have to rely on others to get them through are weak, just like how you're weak to have to rely on me to get anywhere."_

"_I'm sorry you feel that way, Lorianne," the acolyte replied calmly, not insulted. "Not everyone is as able as you. Not everyone's strength lies in the sword like yours does. My strength lies in helping others by boosting their skill and tending to their wounds. There is a reason why we are all good at different things. Maybe one day you'll understand that there's only so far you can go alone."_

--

Striking a match, Lorianne lit the pile of wood before her, carefully coaxing the small flame to stay alive in the breeze. The flames eagerly ate at the dry wood, growing larger on its dry meal. It was a nice night out, with all the stars dotting the sky in a myriad of tiny lights. Poing dozed by the fire, a small cooing coming from him with each breath. Normally Lorianne would enjoy such a night to the fullest, but tonight, something else was on her mind.

Worry was an emotion she was familiar with, from having a pet poring that often got himself into trouble. However, worrying about another person was a place she hadn't been before. Even though she tried to convince herself that the alchemist would be fine (albeit in a lot of pain), her treacherous mind kept on wondering, _What if he isn't?_

She noticed movement coming from the fallen alchemist. Continuing to poke the fire, she watched him struggle to sit up out of the corner of her eye. "You're a damn idiot," she said, tossing the stick into the flames and watching it burn. She was careful to hide her worry about his condition. "You know that, right?"

He grinned in an attempt to conceal his wince of pain, but Lorianne wasn't fooled. The burns from Mistress' Jupitel Thunder still peeled horribly, even after giving him some of his own potions along with cool water from the stream nearby. She couldn't find anything in his bag that resembled something for burns either. She was just glad the spell hadn't set off the explosives he carried, which would have turned him into a human marine sphere.

The alchemist managed a watery smile. "But I'm a very much alive idiot, so much the better," he said, oddly cheerful for someone in a lot of pain. He shifted slightly before wincing again. "Though pain is something I'd rather not experience again in such large quantities."

"If you're not accustomed to pain, why did you do it in the first place?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to change his mind and closed it again. His grey eyes avoided her own as he searched for an answer. "I…I…Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Lorianne could see the dead skin tearing off as he shifted again. "You saved my life earlier. It seemed only fair I pay you back."

For some reason, his words hurt her. Was this the reason why he didn't leave her alone in the bar when she was drunk? Because he felt the need to pay her back? "There is no time to think about 'paying back' in the middle of battle!" she snapped angrily, her voice harsher than she intended. "How can you keep track of how many times I save your sorry little ass? If I didn't need to save your life earlier, would you still 'pay' me back?"

She saw his grey eyes harden behind his glasses. "For your information," he hissed, "I would have still jumped in front of that Jupitel Thunder for you, regardless of whether you saved me or not. Although I'm starting to have second thoughts about doing so now…"

That stare of his…When his eyes lost that mocking smile to anger and pain, they were unsettling. His grey eyes were like a storm, clouded and dark with anger. Lorianne turned away to avoid his gaze, but she could still feel his eyes boring holes into her. "Get some rest," she said gruffly, refusing to apologise for her biting remark earlier. "You'll be needing it. I'll keep watch tonight."

"I don't need any more rest," he protested. "I've been sleeping all day!"

She whirled to face him, narrowing her eyes. "You will better damn well rest! I am _not_ going to allow you to slow me down, and there is no way in hell I am going to carry you around Rune-Midgard!"

He was taken aback by the force she put in her words, and looked like he was going to argue his point further. Bracing herself for a sharp outburst from the alchemist, Lorianne was surprised when he quietly replied, "As you wish…" and lay down on the grass with his back turned to her. When she heard his soft breathing as he fell asleep, she felt her whole body relax. He must have been too tired to argue with her. Looks like he would live another day.

Poing cracked open an eye and gave her a wide grin that said, 'I know something you're not going to like the sound of.' Lorianne had a fairly good idea what her highly intelligent poring was trying to suggest with that snicker of his. There was no way in hell she was going to start getting close anyone any time soon. Especially that damn alchemist.

…But it would be nice to have someone that she could talk to without them turning away in disgust, or even trying to attack her. Poing was great and all, but he just wasn't the same as a person. And as far as travelling companions went, Kei had been the best one so far, despite his uselessness in a battle. She supposed she could just keep him around for company...

…Oh shit. This was a very bad sign…

--

Author's Notes: Well, some of it doesn't quite flow right in my opinion…Personally, I'm more of a soloer, although I usually play soft, squishy characters (i.e. mage class, archer class) with no defensive stats or equipment whatsoever. There was something I was supposed to edit, but I can't for the life of me remember…Comments and critique appreciated.


End file.
